Chapter Text
Marta had written off love a long time ago.
Not in a tragic, dramatic way. No tears, no bitterness. Just… a quiet, practical conclusion after two deeply unsuccessful marriages: she was better on her own.
Books were simpler. Stories made sense.
Real life rarely did.
And then a strange Russian man walked into her bookstore and spent months painstakingly translating a hockey book for his “boring” friend.
She had honestly forgotten the warm feeling of love, a pure and innocent love.
That had done something to her.
Something warm. Something she hadn’t felt in years. Not overwhelming, not life-altering.
Just… there. Quiet. Steady.
It didn’t happen all at once.
It grew slowly.
Late evenings after closing. Conversations that stretched longer than necessary. Dinners that started as “we’re still talking, might as well continue somewhere else” and somehow kept happening.
Until one day...
Chloe kissed her.
Just like that.
They were sitting behind the counter, splitting the last of Mrs. Pietry’s latest pastry experiment, and Chloe leaned in like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Marta, who had built an entire life on certainty and control, found herself completely and utterly unprepared.
Chloe had always been a romantic.
The breakup hadn’t changed that. If anything, it had just… redirected it.
Books were safer.
In books, the red flags were entertaining. The terrible decisions were thrilling. The heartbreak was temporary.
In real life, it had been… less fun.
So she had settled into her routine. The bookstore, her fictional boyfriends, her carefully curated emotional safety.
She still loved the idea of love. She’s just… skittish now. Real-life love is not as pure as in romance books.
Well, not always at least. She still thinks often about when Shane had walked in, asking for an old Russian fairy tale book for a “friend”.
And something about that, about the softness in his voice, the care and the quiet devotion, had shifted things. The pure love of wanting to make someone happy.
To make someone feel loved.
She's not going to say that it’s only because of him, but… seeing him be brave enough to do a grand gesture toward his “friend” helped her a bit.
She started looking up from her books and her brooding fairy princes.
And what a surprise to see what was already there, next to her, waiting patiently.
Marta.
Marta with her calm presence, her sharp tongue, and her quiet generosity.
It wasn’t the kind of love Chloe read about.
It didn’t consume her.
Didn’t destroy her.
Didn’t make her lose herself.
It built her back up.
Slowly. Gently. Day by day.
With every late evening, every shared pastry, and every argument about a plot hole that absolutely mattered.
Chloe felt brave again.
They had a system.
Efficiency required it.
One at the front, one in the back. One handling customers, one handling everything else.
And when one of their “chosen” customers came in, they switched without even needing to ask.
Marta had her list of favourites: Mr. Martin, Dorothy, Frédéric, Oliver, Dr. Gagnier, Mrs. Tulio, and Ilya.
Chloe had hers with Mrs. Pietry, Agathe, Henry, Ben, and now Shane.
They did not comment on this system.
It simply existed.
Like many things in the bookstore.
That morning was quiet.
Suspiciously quiet.
The front doorbell had not rung once and they just enjoyed being with each other.
They had spent it in the reading corner, half-giggling and half-suffering through a truly atrocious dark romance novel.
There had also been kissing, possibly a lot of kissing.
Unfortunately, the quiet morning was finally disturbed by the bell.
Once.
Then immediately again.
Marta and Chloe froze.
Two customers at the same time?
Unheard of. Even parents have stopped taking their kids to the bookstore nowadays.
They exchanged a look, disentangled themselves with visible reluctance, and made their way to the front.
Yes, they would like to stay there, but you can’t say no to clients, that’s just bad for business!
Voices drifted through the shelves, low and amused. They were whispering like they were in a library instead of a bookstore.
Marta brushed her hand against Chloe’s as she passed.
Not an accident.
Never an accident. Marta was too good for that.
Chloe blushed immediately.
Marta reached the front first and stopped.
She was very happy to see Ilya there.
Since the whole translation mission, he came quite regularly for their comic books and Russian classic literature books.
That last category was new on their shelves and entirely for him. Let’s be honest, not many people in Ottawa could read Russian.
Another man was standing next to him.
Shane, one of Chloe’s favorites.
Marta didn’t even try to hide her smile and turned slightly.
“Chloe,” she called, “someone is here for you!”
Then she stepped forward, already reaching for Ilya’s arm.
“Alright,” she said, steering him toward the shelves, “what kind of deeply questionable book are we looking for today?”
Behind her, Chloe appeared, already lighting up.
“Hi, Shane! What can I…”
She stopped.
Because neither of them had moved.
They were standing close. Not touching, but close enough that the space between them felt… intentional.
Marta took a step back.
Chloe did the same on her side.
They looked at the two men.
Then at each other.
“Oh,” Marta said slowly.
Her grin turned sharp.
“The ‘friend’ is finally here.”
She even did the quotation marks.
Chloe made a small, strangled noise.
“Oh my god, are you… are you actually…” she clutched her chest. “I’m going to cry, this is the best day of my life!”
Shane sighed.
Ilya looked delighted.
“So,” Shane said, glancing between them, “I’m guessing you don’t really follow hockey news.”
Ilya snorted.
“Why would they?” he said cheerfully. “We are very private people. Only small things on the internet. Like, you know…” he waved a hand vaguely, “our sex tape a few months ago.”
Chloe choked while Marta blinked.
Shane turned bright red.
“It was not a sex tape,” he said quickly. “We were just kissing, Ilya!”
“Very passionately,” Ilya added, extremely helpful.
Marta couldn’t help it; she just started to laugh. Ilya looked so proud of himself.
“Oh, I like you even more now,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Come on. We have pastries in the back and we need the full retelling of the gift exchange. You’re telling us everything!”
They ended up crammed together on the small sofa.
Mrs. Pietry’s latest creation sat abandoned on the table.
No one was eating.
Chloe was vibrating with excitement.
The story of meeting Shane was amazing and when Marta told her about her own experience with Ilya, Chloe was overjoyed. She felt like their small bookstore was actually a magical shop, full of love and fairy-tale endings.
Seeing the two men seated together on the small sofa was definitely proof of this power.
“Tell me everything,” she said. “I have been respectful for months. I deserve this.”
Shane glanced at Ilya and squeezed his hand.
Shane went first.
He talked about the idea that had lived in his head for months.
About how ridiculous he had felt, walking into a bookstore and asking for something so specific, so personal.
About Chloe, who had looked at him like it wasn’t ridiculous at all.
Like it mattered.
How it felt like Chloe could see right through him and see his love for his “friend”.
He talked about keeping the wrapped books in the back of his wardrobe for months after buying them. About trying to find the courage to offer it to Ilya, to let him see how much he cared about him.
About waiting.
About trying to find the right moment and being absolutely terrible at it.
Ilya took over without warning, like he couldn’t help himself.
“He gave it to me,” he said, grinning, “without looking at me. Like this,” he turned his head dramatically. “…very shy. Very cute.”
“I was not…”
“You were. I almost didn’t open the package right there. I was too distracted by the cute freckles showing under the blush!” Ilya said firmly.
Marta nodded.
“Sounds accurate.”
Shane gave up.
Ilya’s voice softened.
“When I opened it…” he said, quieter now, “I didn’t think I would ever see this again. Not really.”
He traced invisible lines on Shane’s palm as he spoke.
“My mom used to read those stories to me. I don’t remember all of them. Just… pieces. When my dad threw it away, it became one more thing I will never get back from my mom.”
A pause.
“Until Shane gave it back.”
Silence settled around them, soft.
“And the two other books?” Chloe whispered.
Ilya smiled.
“I didn’t even know that it was only the first book. When Shane showed me the two sequels, he told me that maybe we could make new memories with these ones. And we will.”
“We will read them together,” Shane said softly. “Slowly. I’m learning Russian.”
Marta raised an eyebrow.
“The plan is to read the first one with the English translation you gave me, Chloe. Ilya is helping me a lot. Then, when I’m fluent enough, we will read the second one together,” Shane added, a little helplessly.
“Obviously,” Marta said.
“And the third one?” Chloe asked, already emotional again.
Shane and Ilya exchanged a look.
Something loving and certain.
“Maybe later,” Ilya said. “With our children.”
Chloe burst into tears.
“And your gift?” Marta asked, turning to Ilya. “Let’s see if it lives up to this.”
Ilya lit up immediately.
“Oh yes, mine is even more romantic than Shane’s!”
“It’s not a competition,” Shane said.
“It is always a competition.”
“It’s really not…”
“I translated an entire book,” Ilya pointed out.
“…fair.”
Marta gestured.
“Go on.”
Shane groaned softly. “Right… Well, Ilya’s surprise was definitely a surprise.”
Shane went on about noticing Ilya’s suspicious behaviour, leaving the Cottage when Shane was visiting his parents or high school friends.
How he was evasive about where he was going and what he was doing.
How Shane felt suspicious, then scared that Ilya was getting bored of staying at the Cottage with him, until Ilya reassured him multiple times.
Then, after summer, Ilya would sometimes FaceTime from an unknown sofa.
Ilya cut in: “Yeah, basically Shane is a terrible person to surprise… I swear we almost broke up because of this book!”
“No, that’s not true…” Shane replied. “It’s just that you were so cagey… and you are not a good liar.”
Ilya looked deeply offended. “What, I’m a great liar!”
“You told me you were shopping,” Shane said flatly, “while sitting on a sofa.”
“I panicked!”
“You were holding a book.”
“I really panicked…” Ilya looked a bit ashamed now.
Marta choked on a laugh.
Chloe was fully leaning against her now.
“Anyway,” Shane continued, speaking louder over Ilya’s continuous muttering, “I thought he was just being… weird. Which is normal.”
“Hey!”
“And then Christmas came.”
Ilya leaned forward, eyes bright.
“Yes, we went to Shane’s parents for this Christmas and my gift definitely ended up being the best, even Yuna agreed!”
“Again, not a competition…” Shane sounded amused.
“When he opened it,” Ilya continued, “he was confused. Because he knows everything about hockey. Everything.”
“That’s not true…”
“It is,” Ilya insisted. “Obsessive.”
“Keep going!” Marta interrupted.
“Anyway, he kept turning the book in his hand, touching the spine and looking closely at the cover. Then he finally opened it,” Ilya went on, softer now, “and he saw the first page. He cried.”
“I did not,” Shane interrupted quietly. “I just… Ilya, what you wrote, it was…”
Ilya shrugged, suddenly shy.
“Just… small thing. True things.”
Shane looked at him like the room had disappeared.
“I loved it,” he said.
A beat.
“I love you.”
Silence.
Marta cleared her throat gently.
“Yes,” she said. “And we are not getting the full dedication speech, I assume.”
“Absolutely not,” Ilya said immediately.
“Tragic,” Chloe whispered.
They stayed for over an hour.
Talking and laughing together.
Eventually, they left with only one paper bag for two.
Neither of them had really come for books.
Marta watched them through the window.
Chloe stepped up beside her.
“You built something magical here,” she said softly. “You know that, right? A place where people can just… be. Where things like this happen.”
Marta huffed quietly.
Then she pulled Chloe closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“This place was just a bookstore,” Marta said. “It became something magical when you walked in.”